A collection of automotive stuff, restaurant/travel-related items and personal observations; mostly a lot of claptrap, really.

Nashville

Taken a few years ago at some joint on Broadway in Nashville, this was one of several photos with good-looking girls I had never laid eyes on before. It wasn't my birthday, but the Nissan crew was telling every attractive female we encountered that it was. Here's to getting older!

Sunday, January 29, 2017

I'm not the kind of guy who would
rather sit around than do something. Well, that's a sweeping
statement that isn't entirely true. Sometime between 4 and 7 p.m.
every day, I power down my PC, climb the steps to my living room and
crank back in my recliner for an evening's TV watching. Even that
statement isn't completely true. Two or three afternoons a week my PC
is dark by lunch time as I redirect my efforts to tackle a house
project. But you get the point: I do sit around most evenings – if
not at home, then entertaining a bartender somewhere.

This past week was alarmingly quiet,
disconcerting even, in regard to paying work. Planning on being in
Portland, Maine with Dodge for the Challenger GT media event for the
first three days at the week's front end, I had budgeted my work to
have those days free. Weather of some sort had Delta canceling my
original flight out of Greenville-Spartanburg to Laguardia and then
my backup flight was canceled, as well. The best Delta could muster
were backup, backup flights that wouldn't have gotten me to my
destination until mid afternoon on Tuesday. Because that was the
driving day for the event, there wasn't much sense in going.

Suddenly I found myself at home with
three open days. It was, until I considered the impact on my earnings
or lack thereof, glorious. I basically did nothing but go to the gym
on Monday and Tuesday. At the request of my Autotrader editor on
Monday, I did write a short news piece and submitted it. That took me
all of 30 minutes. Otherwise, all was quiet on the Greenville front.

By Wednesday, though, I was boring
myself and had to do something productive. I wrote a car review of
the Chevy Cruze Hatchback in the morning (You can find it here.), and
installed the final few pieces of baseboard in the upstairs bathroom
in the afternoon. I had been holding off on the baseboard chore
because it meant hauling my power miter saw from the shed to the
carport and working outside. Most of last week featured Chamber of
Commerce weather. With the sun shinning and temps in the mid 70s, I
had no reason not to drag out the miter saw. Nearly three hours and
sixteen cuts later, I had installed the less than six feet of
remaining baseboard. Oh, I suddenly remembered why I had been putting
off that project: 16 flipping cuts!

Thursday I decided to edit one of the
half dozen or so unedited just3things videos I have stacked up. Once
every two or three months when I spool up my Corel Videostudio
editing program, I get a message to download a new update to the X9
Ultimate version I use. I always click on the “download” icon,
wait for 15 seconds for the download to do its thing and then push on
with my editing project without incident. Not so this time. The
download seemed to complete and I began work on a video. With the
second or third edit, the program froze and then closed itself. This
repeated for another three or four attempts. Most of my Thursday was
spent trying to overcome the glitch. I finally gave up, and shut down
my PC.

On Friday, I did everything I could
think of to get Corel working. I even went back and reset my PC to
the day before I downloaded the update. Nothing worked. I finally
decided to uninstall and then reinstall X9. I found my Corel license
agreement with my number, logged on to Corel and found, to my horror,
that there doesn't seem to be any path to reinstall the program.
Contacting Corel customer service about the issue, I'm still waiting
for a reply. Fingers crossed that they reach out on Monday.

Traditionally Saturdays are my
do-nothing-without-remorse day. Some Saturdays, I don't even power up
my PC. I go to the gym, lounge around, watch a movie or two in the
afternoon and think about dinner. (Wow, maybe I sit around more than
I think.) This past Saturday, however, I planned on doing some
long-overdue cleaning/rearranging in my work area.

I was in and out of the gym by 9:30
a.m. Checking my phone for e-mails before leaving the gym parking
lot, I was surprised by a reminder that the deadline for an
Autotrader story was on Monday at 10 a.m. What story? Autotrader uses
a third-party outfit to receive and accept story proposals, as well
as receive the story once finished. This entity notifies me when
Autotrader has accepted a proposal and alerts me to the deadline.
Then, two days before the deadline, it sends a reminder. I received
the reminder that morning, but had never seen the original notice of
acceptance. Scrolling back a week, I couldn't locate the
assignment-accepted e-mail. For whatever reason, the original
acceptance notification never came. Spilled milk. I suddenly had an
assignment due on Monday morning.

Rather than beginning my office
clean-up project when I returned home, I used the two hours remaining
before lunch to knock out and submit the story. I didn't actually
begin working on the office until about 2:00.

I pity the sanitation worker tasked with dragging this thing full of books out to the truck.

As with every home project I undertake,
my office clean up exceeded the time I had budgeted for it. I had
three bookcases in my office crammed with books, press kits, office
supplies and other assorted flotsam accumulated over the past five or
six years since my last big clean up. Feeling like Cinderella as I
carted armload after armload of junk up the stairs and out to my
garbage can, all I could think about was hunkering down in my
recliner with a movie and a glass of wine.

The biggest part of the chore was
moving one of the bookcases out of my work space up to the upstairs
spare bedroom. As part of that project, I decided to move the
remaining two bookcases to different locations in my office. It meant unloading
all three bookcases. Not only do I now have roughly 70 novels that
look like they just came out of the Amazon box stacked up on the
floor, I carted shelves of crap out to my garbage can. The books must
go, but I can't bring myself to just pitch, what must be,
$1,500-$2,000 in books. Next week I'll reach out to the library and
see if I can donate them.

I did toss all manner of car-related
books, manuals, press kits and so forth that I hadn't used in years.
I wish I lived closer to some of my auto-journalist peers because I'm
sure someone would have taken a lot of this stuff off my hands. I'm
not a saver nor a hoarder. I have little sentimentality for things I
don't use. But even I felt a little guilty about a few of the items I
pitched. My thinking: Either I toss this stuff now or some poor, unsuspecting family member tosses it after I shuffle off this rock.

I worked until around 6:30 and still
have a few hours of work to finish up. But the garbage can was filled
to the brim – no doubt whichever sanitation worker attempts
to wheel this can out to the truck will be flirting with a workman's
comp claim – and must weigh 200 pounds. I'm going to struggle to
pull it up the driveway to the street for pickup on Monday.

So, in a week in which I had little
real work to do, I did manage to occupy myself. I always do.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Ah, the world was my oyster in 1974. I had hair, a cool car and nothing but optimism.

I'm not the kind of guy who gives much
thought to “what if.” Maybe that's why I haven't written the
great American novel. Every novel sets sail in the writer's mind as a
what if.

Nope, I don't waste time mentally
thumbing through the archives of my life wondering, what if. I got
myself here and that's all that really matters. At times it wasn't
particularly pretty, but there isn't a whole lot I would change. Had
I thought I would live this long, I might have made a different
choice or two along the way, but I have few regrets. It's been a good
run, and Lord willing, it ain't over yet.

Twelve months ago, I thought I would be
focused this year on selling my house. However, my career (Referring
to how I make money as a “career” always makes me smile.) took a
turn for the better last year. Now I'm able to think of the work I'm
doing on my house as remodeling, as opposed to getting it ready to
sell. That takes a bit of the pressure off.

For the past decade or two, I haven't
considered the New Year as a fresh start. One year has been pretty
much the same as the last and the one to follow. It was about the
time I reached the point in my life that I was not longer chasing –
or kidding myself that I was chasing – the typical things in life
most younger people pursue: family, upward mobility and so forth
that I simply relaxed and tried to enjoy the ride.

Sure, there were years that I struggled
to keep away the wolves. During those times I just kept my head down
and plugged away. A few friends provided a hand up, and I survived to
fight another day.

When I began at the Boca Raton News in the mid 1980s, I had no idea it would lead to Sebring and the 1991 Dodge Viper.

The past few years have been a
challenge. My industry has all but disappeared. Newspapers and
magazines are relics in today's digital world. That I've managed to
somehow bridge the gap between print and digital is more serendipity
than a testament to any skill of mine. I guess you can attribute my
continued association with Autotrader to some combination of talent
and personal relationships, but that gig took seed from a
conversation during a limo ride from an airport to some carmaker
media event. It was pure happenstance; luck, if you will.

I have not adapted well to today's many
forms of social media. Beyond Facebook, I'm a digital hack. I can lay
some claim to using Instagram and Twitter because when I post a photo
on Instagram, I can share it on Twitter and Facebook at the same
time. Otherwise, I'd never post on Instagram nor Twitter. When I was
with family over Christmas, one of my grand nieces set me up on
Snapchat. I have yet to post anything and only sporadically do I
think to check on what my handful of Snapchat friends (mostly family)
have posted. Although I've been on Facebook for five-or-so years, I
don't even check it daily.

Over the last year, I have revitalized
my creative juices with just3things. I'm having fun doing it. Will it
actually grow into something? I have not a clue, but I intend to
continue adding to the content of just3thingsvideo.com. When the
video count reaches 100, I'll invest some money into promoting it.
Then we'll see what happens.

I have allowed GreenvilleInsider.com to
molder. I haven't even been on the site in three or four months. I
haven't updated anything nor added any content in at least that long.
I knew when I launched it, I would have trouble keeping up with it.
When I wasn't busy making money, I had more time and energy to devote
to it. Now, not so much. I'll keep the domain name and continue
paying the annual fee to the site host, just in case I want to
relaunch it someday; but I don't see myself doing anything with it
this year.

In the meantime, I'm going to get
cranked up again doing car reviews for Cardata.com. I'm sure my
editor there will be glad to hear that. He continues bugging me about
diving back in. Otherwise, I will just keep on keeping on.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

I'm not the kind of guy who rolls out
the red carpet for out-of-town, stay-overnight company – nor
company of any stripe, for that matter. Anyone who has been to my
house – and there are damn few of you – know that it isn't
exactly engineered for visitors.

Although it's not much smaller in
living space than was my house in Boynton Beach, my Greenville home
doesn't have a screened-in pool terrace nor the single-floor layout
of my former Florida house. Where, despite only about 1,300 square
feet under air, 50 or 60 people could mingle in total comfort. I've
seen them do it. Five or six people, willing to crane their necks and
talk over their shoulder, can sit and visit in the living room of my
Greenville home, but after about 10 minutes, that grows old. I've had
as many as eight or nine standing people squeezed on to my
screened-in front porch, but that only works in cooler weather.

No, about the most out-of-town visitors
can expect is the dusting off of my blender to create a round or two
of margaritas. Teetotalers (Yes, that is the proper spelling.) are
simply out of luck.

Although I'd like to put on the dog, I
just don't have the facilities. I do have a side table against one
wall in my dining area that will expand to seat 8 or 10. However, I
only have four matching chairs. My intent was always to add at least
two more chairs, but during the five years I've owned this table,
it's only been converted into a dining table twice. Why buy two more
chairs?

Other than making and freezing
spaghetti sauce, typically my culinary efforts are pretty much
confined to grilling chicken, and the occasional pork cutlet or steak
on the gas grill in my carport. When out-of-town company comes a
callin', they should be prepared to eat most meals out. I'll stock in
some bagels for breakfast and a few munchies, but I'm not going to
load up the fridge with food that will go bad if not consumed by the
visitors. I have had multi-night visitors for whom I've stocked
foodstuffs for eat-in meals. Before the exhaust from their departing
vehicle has totally evaporated in my driveway, I've loaded up a huge
garbage bag with all manner of condiments, produce and other assorted
food items that will just go bad if left on the refrigerator shelves,
hauling it out to the garbage. What a waste.

Reading the preceding paragraphs, one
might jump to the conclusion I don't welcome overnight visitors.
Nothing is further from the truth. I am excited with the prospect of
hosting friends and family. I wish more of them would take me up on
my invitation to visit. Having said that, though, doing the all the
prep work required to receive company exhausts my motivation and
energy to the point, I have nothing left to plan meals, grocery shop
and cook.

What I want visitors to my home to
understand: Revel in the fact that your feet aren't sticking to my
kitchen floor because 24 hours before you arrived, they would have.

The major weapon in my arsenal for the fight against crud: the Shark Rocket.

I don't have a weekly “cleaning day.”
Hell, I don't have a monthly cleaning day. Other than wiping down the
kitchen counter on a daily basis, I clean as I notice things require
cleaning. And I must confess, I'm not nearly as observant as I once
was. Every once in a while I'll notice the layer of dust on the TV
stand and realize it must be time to dust. Or, I'll be cranked back
in my recliner lording over my meager digs and realize it has been
two or three weeks since I last vacuumed. Yep, that's how I roll.

So, as the arrival date approaches for
visitors, I begin gearing up for a major house cleaning. It's not
exactly planning the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but it is a huge
endeavor, made even more daunting because I don't regularly clean.
Usually taking five or six hours, not much escapes my attention. But,
it is a lot of work and, to my way of thinking, a colossal
misappropriation of time.

This is why no one should ever expect
to be out with me somewhere and hear me offer, “hey, let's just go
back to my house.” At times, when I've been tempted to do that, my
mind races through a room-by-room inventory of my hovel, squashing
any chance of my issuing a spur-of-the-moment invite. It's also why
my rolling out the blender for margaritas is the epitome of my
graciousness as an overnight host. By my tally, I've already exceeded
any and all expectations by scrubbing bathrooms and chipping Cheez
Whiz off the kitchen-cabinet doors.

Saturday, January 7, 2017

I'm not the kind of guy who shrinks
from breaking some new ground. Having said that, however, you'd have
to threaten my life to get me to eat hummus or sushi. Nope. If I'm
going to each chips and something, that something will be salsa or
queso. Hummus? It doesn't even sound good. And, if I'm going to eat
beans, I don't want them mushed up into some sort of spread. I'd like
them baked, please. Toss in some BBQ sauce and brown sugar while
you're at it. And, don't even get me started on sushi and its many
iterations.

I did drift into uncharted waters this
week when Nissan invited me to the Consumer Electronics Show in Las
Vegas. It's the annual clearinghouse for all the next-big things in
technology. It was the first time Nissan participated as an exhibitor
and Fiat/Nissan CEO Carlos Ghosn was the keynote speaker. Nissan
brought in media from around the world for the event. Benefiting from
a bit of serendipity, I made the cut. Never having attended before, I
was really stoked about the experience.

I'm not a fan of Las Vegas. I don't
gamble. I don't like crowds. And everywhere you try to go, expect a
two-mile hike. This is true even moving around inside the hotels. I'm
not a health nut, but I do work out pretty much every day I'm home. I
do at least 40 minutes of cardio during these workouts. Despite my
advanced years, I'm not in bad shape, but, hoist a backpack stuffed
with 25 lbs of video and camera gear onto your shoulder, and that
daily 40 minutes of cardio is woefully deficient.

Not only did I probably clock five
miles or so of walking inside my hotel during my three-night stay,
going from the SLS hotel to the convention center added several more
miles. Nissan armed each of us with a two-day Metro Rail pass. The
SLS and convention center are separated by a single stop. But even
catching the train requires repeated climbing up and down and up and
down flights of stairs. Then there is the show floor. The Las Vegas
Convention Center is a huge complex that seems to have been designed
to defy getting from one hall to the next. In fact, Vegas routes its pedestrian traffic over, around, up and down apparently in a ridiculous attempt to drive people into taxicabs. You can stand on one corner and see the opposite corner 150 feet away, but, thanks to barricades erected along most streets, you must walk four blocks out of your way to cross the street. It's maddening.

Chrysler unveiled its latest high-tech concept.

After finally locating the area in the convention center where
the half-dozen-or-so carmakers were exhibiting, I didn't stray until
I channeled my Lewis and Clark, searching and walking, walking and
searching to find my way out of the maze to head back to the train.
Many of the exhibits aren't even in the convention center. They are
scattered in several other venues around the city. Did I visit any of
these? Hell, no.

A client wanted several stories from
the event. Before I had even left the SLS for the first show
presentation, my editor reached out to ask if I could write three of
those stories and file them by 10 a.m. East Coast time the next
morning. Um, well, probably not. I hadn't even hit the show floor. I
had things mapped out throughout the day I wanted to do and see. I
had to be at the airport for my return flight by 8:30 a.m. East Coast
time that next day. We agreed two were doable. To accomplish
that, though, I needed to write one of them that afternoon. I cut my time on
the show floor short and was back in my hotel room writing by 2:00.

I was up at 2:30 the next morning
writing the second story. I finished and filed it, packed, showered,
and made my 5:30 shuttle to the airport.

When you don't much care for Vegas, it
doesn't take long to grow very weary of it. Nissan's hospitality
suite was on the opposite side of the casino from the tower housing
my room. Every trip to it required my walking through the dinging and
clanging of the slots. Thankfully, the SLS casino is a ghost town. At
any time while I was there, I doubt there were ever more than 75
gamblers scattered throughout the sprawling game floor. That kept the
smoke to a minimum. I can't express how odd it is to see people
smoking in all the hotel's public spaces. Only the hotel restaurants
seemed to escape the non-stop puffing.

Although I was excited to attend the
show for the first time, I was glad to get the hell out of there. I
didn't really get to experience much of the show. I guess I'll just
have to settle for getting a week's worth of cardio in two days.

My 4-1-1

I began covering the automotive industry in 1986, when I parlayed my position as a retail sales rep into helping conceptualize and establish a stand-alone automotive section for the Boca Raton News a Knight-Ridder newspaper in South Florida. In 1995 I moved to the Palm Beach Post to help develop its bi-weekly automotive pages. Leaving there in 2000, I freelanced car reviews to a variety of publications before assuming a senior editor position at AMI Autoworld magazine in 2001. While at AMI I helped launch NOPI Street Performance Compact magazine and was appointed its managing editor. I have been freelancing since leaving AMI in 2004. My regular outlets have included Hispanic Magazine, the Miami Herald, the Washington Times, the Journal-Register Newspapers, AAA Go magazine, MyCarData.com, Automotive Metrics, AutoTrader, Bankrate.com and Interest.com.

In addition to freelancing automotive reviews, from 1991 until 2001 I was supervising producer of the syndicated television series Discover America.